


Death and the Maiden

by celinae



Category: Naruto
Genre: BAMF!sakura, Drama, F/M, Gen, Horror, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-05-07 04:17:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5443046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celinae/pseuds/celinae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In spite of the odds, Sakura fights back.  ("Take courage now, and very soon / Within mine arms shall softly rest thee!")</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Burn your ashes

**Author's Note:**

> Title and some quotes come from a translation of Der Tod und das Mädchen (Death and the Maiden)--the text for both a string quartet and an amazing lieder (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KlejFYNlgR4) by Schubert.

_whatisdeathwhatisdeathwhatisdeath_  
_and if you knew you would_  
_still_

_only hide_

* * *

  
Sakura felt the bile choking her throat, bittersour, but she swallowed it down as she leapt over yet another knot of fallen branches.  Panic made her sloppy, and as she plowed through the branches and the briars the broken wood cut her arms and legs.  The wounds were leaving behind enough of a blood trail that it would perhaps be problematic for her, but she didn’t have enough time to cover her tracks. 

Because he was following her.    
  
She only had a glimpse of him before the chase had begun, and he was far enough away that she could only just barely distinguish and identify him, but she had no doubt that if she even paused he would soon be upon her.  She had only a slight advantage so far in this encounter--she had to find the right place to fight back from.  Any hesitation in her search and she would be dead, and her objectives failed...   
  
She somersaulted over the exposed roots of a fallen tree, and, in recognizing its utility, made the decision to make a stand almost without realizing.  She paused, and turned around to face him.  Unconsciously, her left hand covered her right wrist, her fingers seeking out the smooth comfort of her _o-nenju_ beads.  She took a breath, felt it falter as it entered her lungs, and gathering the courage hard-won over the course of her life so far, she called: 

“Uchiha Itachi.”   
  
It was almost too soft to carry, and the pulse of fear at that thought made her feel faint, but she saw him pause.  


	2. Introduction: Haruno Sakura, Troubled Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we are introduced to Haruno Sakura, troubled youth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excited to see so many hits! :) Sorry about the lack of info. I wanted to be slow and cool about revealing the twists of the story, though I guess with this chapter you should be able to guess Sakura's special power...

  
_Oh! leave me! Prithee, leave me! thou grisly man of bone!_  
_For life is sweet, is pleasant._  


* * *

   
It was a chilly day, the beginning of winter. Leaves were becoming sanguine and brittle, drifting into heaps in the backyard of the Morino Daycare Center, an aging concrete building in one of the quieter quarters of Konoha. Hitomi, gazing out the hallway window in a brief moment of peace during a bathroom break, considered submitting a D-rank to have the leaves raked and disposed.  The piles would soon become difficult to manage, and she had too much to do already that a mission would be 

  
Maybe if they could bring in two or three more kids… maybe then the expense would be manageable?  She wasn’t sure. They had just taken on a new young girl, Sakura, who was proving to be a handful. Hitomi knew that it was only a matter of time before parents would voice concerns about the pink-haired child. She felt regret, because Sakura was clearly troubled—and the sort of child that Hitomi, a long time ago, would have dropped everything to help.  But with the drudgeries of running the center, after inheriting it from her aunt Shiori, and with her past failures with other children, Hitomi knew that there was nothing to do for Sakura.  Sooner or later, someone would complain.  And then Sakura would be dropped from the center, and her mother would have to find another alternative.  
  
It wasn’t her problem, in the end.  Just right now.

Hitomi sighed and re-entered the room. Shizuka, her aide, brightened when she noticed Hitomi was back.  Looking down at the kid she was helping and saying something briefly, she stood up and crossed over quickly.  While waiting for Shizuka to come near, Hitomi surveyed the room.  The group was doing art, with crayons and colored paper. Most of the children were relatively docile, but near where Shizuka was initially standing Hitomi noticed some movement and noise.

“It’s Sakura again… “ Shizuka paused. “She was drawing some really… I thought that maybe it might be a good idea to have her stop and take a time out.”  
  
Hitomi gave her a confused look, then went over to the corner where Sakura was crouched.  The children around her gave her a large berth, in some cases having drawn their desks away from hers. They seemed nervous and scared, looking at her cautiously. Hitomi kneeled down next to Sakura and studied her. 

Her fine candy-floss hair shielded her eyes and concealed deep purple shadows.  She was almost folded over her paper, furiously drawing and humming to herself. When she detected Hitomi’s presence she paused, but didn’t look up, and though she kept drawing her small body was tense.  Hitomi had made the mistake, yesterday when it was Sakura’s first day, of thinking that because Sakura seemed to shrink within herself that maybe she was shy and malleable. But she wasn’t—she was stubborn and finicky.  She shied away from interacting with the other children and stayed in odd corners, and seemed to prefer objects to people.  Hitomi thought it was some kind of developmental disorder, maybe autism. 

Except there was something eerie about Sakura, something that Hitomi couldn’t disregard even though it made her worry if she was crazy.  Even now, crouching next to her in the colorful, brightly lit room, Hitomi felt like there was a shadow over Sakura’s table.  She even felt a little cold, and in her shivering felt as though the table she was resting her hand on was shaking, too.  

Hitomi pushed down the anxiety and cleared her throat. “Sakura-chan, what are you drawing?” She reached out to touch the paper. Sakura froze and then slowly unbent, her uncrossed arms revealing her drawing as though giving permission to look, though she didn’t say anything. 

It was a picture of a group of people. One with their guts spilling out, another woman colored in grey, and a small figure that was oddly crooked. Hitomi felt a crawling sensation down her spine as she studied the image.  It was never a good sign when a child drew disturbing or depressing picture. Hitomi would have thought that something was definitely wrong with Sakura’s mother, but Mebuki seemed lost and worn down, clearly as confused as how to deal with Sakura as Hitomi felt right now. Perhaps Sakura had an overactive imagination?  Watched too many scary movies by accident?  Hitomi decided she would try to talk to Mebuki when she came to pick Sakura up that evening.

But for now, what to do?  Shizuka had a point.  The children around Sakura seemed agitated and upset, and while drawing out one’s demons might be therapeutic, Hitomi wasn’t sure if Sakura was any measurably better than thirty minutes ago when the art period started. And yet… Hitomi wasn’t sure what would be better for Sakura right now.  She didn’t want to single her out in front of the class too much too early, and Sakura also seemed more anxious whenever Hitomi was near. Hitomi sighed and gave Sakura back the picture.

“If you want to tell me anything Sakura-chan, you can do it anytime.  You know that, right?” Hitomi kept her voice quiet and comforting.   Sakura’s eyes seemed almost too piercing against her pale and shadowed face, but Hitomi kept staring at her back until Sakura looked away.  Hitomi almost missed hearing her whisper, almost didn’t understand what Sakura said.

“Shiori says you should have sold this place when she left.”

But… she must have misheard.  Hitomi leaned back and stood up, shook her head. She moved onto the other children, surveying their drawings with bright words of praise.  She certainly didn't hear Sakura whimper softly, begging, "Please, I told her as you asked, please, please stop..."  
  
As she predicted, in a few days, Sakura left the center. And the dark shadows Hitomi saw in that corner disappeared as if they were never there. 


	3. In Her Shell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote from Radiohead's "I Will." Still a bit slow-paced; I found myself wanting to linger a bit more in her childhood. Soon things will start happening, though. I've been trying to read up on Shinto and Buddhist traditions before I start talking about Academy days... to give a hint of what's to come :)

 

 

_I will._  

_Lay me down_

_In a bunker underground_

  
_I won't let this happen to my children_

_Meet the real world coming out of your shell_

 

* * *

 

To say Sakura didn't have an ordinary childhood would be an understatement.  She didn't look like a typical child, with her pink hair and vivid green eyes, but one could imagine if circumstances were different she would have grown up a relatively normal kid.  Maybe if things were different, Sakura wouldn’t have known what dead people looked like until she was old enough to understand it—or maybe she never would have understood death at all.  

Instead, her life was a living nightmare, and from her earliest memory, she was shaped by fear.  In that memory, she recalled screaming.  The screaming of the ghosts and her own screaming.  And she couldn't sleep, she couldn't hide. The ghosts always found her, screamed at her, cut her… 

  
But her father heard her distress.  He came and rocked her on his shoulder, and even though the ghosts moaned and shrieked they could no longer reach her.  Shielded in her father's embrace, she saw them still, the eyes dangling out, the dripping intestines, the shuriken glittering like jewelry in their throats.  But her father's arms were warm and his heartbeat strong, and she found herself becoming calm.  He sang to her gently, swaying back and forth, and soon enough she fell asleep to his humming.    


He calmed her in this way many times as she grew up.  Her parents knew that she was a greatly disturbed child, though it was only when she was old enough to describe her ghosts that they knew what troubled her.  It wasn’t anything that was known in the Haruno clan, her ability to see ghosts.  Neither Mebuki nor Kizashi knew how to deal with it, or how to help Sakura deal with it either.  Despite their helplessness they realized that Sakura being able to have any sort of normal life relied on keeping her ability a secret.  

Konoha was peaceful, safe, warm, and full of friendly people—a lovely place to raise a family.  But first and foremost, it was a hidden village, and as a chunin Kizashi had enough exposure to village politics to guess that there were many ugly secrets under the cheerful red brick of the Hokage Tower.  He had decided, when he knew the truth of what tormented Sakura, that his daughter would not be one of them.  But he couldn’t help but be tormented in turn by the thought that maybe the solution to Sakura’s problems—the secret to stopping her visions and hallucinations, if that was what they were—could be found if he simply told someone.  Maybe, one of the experts in psychological matters employed by the Torture and Interrogation Force?  Or a seal hidden in the scrolls of the Hokage’s library?  Foolish thoughts, he knew, but when he tried to sing to a whimpering Sakura in his arms he sometimes felt so helpless despite his desperate urge to protect her.  He couldn't be there every minute to reassure her she was loved and protected.  He had to go on missions to pay the bills, to save money for Sakura's care. 

Sometimes, he found himself thinking traitorously that despite wishing he was there to protect his daughter, he was glad to have a break from worrying about her.  He could immerse himself in a problem or mission he could actually succeed in, and temporarily forget the problems he couldn’t fix.  He could be a whole ninja, without a broken child he despaired for. 

But maybe that was wishful thinking, he acknowledged, as he saw the red glow of a Katon jutsu among the distant dark trees.  He jumped down from the ramparts of the border post near Suna and tried not to let fear for his own life add to his unconscious fear for his daughter’s. 

 

* * *

In an attempt to help Sakura have friends, Mebuki brought her outside one day while taking out the trash.  Their next-door neighbor, Kyoko, was playing catch with her son in the green in the middle of their apartment block.  When Kyoko spied Mebuki coming out she cried out in delight, running away from Hikaru to greet her neighbor.  

"Kyoko!" Mebuki waved. 

“Mebuki!  What a pleasure,” she said, smiling warmly.  “And is this your daughter? My goodness, what a cute girl!  I’m so jealous, Mebuki!  What beautiful hair!”  She reached out to touch Sakura’s candy floss bob.  Sakura tensed and retreated behind her mother's leg during the intrusion, but it was over quickly. Kyoko, attributing Sakura's reaction to shyness, smiled indulgently and shifted her attention to Mebuki, drawing her over to the bench where she had left some snacks.  The two mothers were soon talking intently, the conversation punctuated by Kyoko's swooping enthusiasm, her giggles and excited cries. 

Sakura wondered if she could escape back into the house, especially to avoid the whispering dark shadows by the garbage bins on the southern corner.  But as she was turning away and before she could take advantage of her mother's distraction, she realized that the boy, Kyoko's son, was holding a ball and staring at her.  Sakura froze.

"My name is Hikaru. What's yours?" He lobbed the ball at her.  Sakura instinctively flinched, trembling, as the soft striped ball hurtled towards her, but it hit the ground by her feet and bounced lightly away. 

Hesitating, she chased after the ball before it could roll into the road around the yard. It had stopped two feet away from a stain in the air that shivered in her direction as she approached.  But Sakura hurried, grabbed the ball and ran away, refusing to look at the darkness.  She knew instinctively that the boy with golden hair couldn't see the shadows.  

She stopped far enough away that Hikaru couldn’t reach her, and threw the ball with both hands over her head.  Hikaru seemed satisfied that Sakura wasn’t as strong or athletic, as she could barely make it reach him while he always tossed the ball back to her with so much vigor that she could never catch it.  He smirked at her, as she shrank away from the ball’s impacts.  Despite his attitude, Sakura decided she would keep playing.  Her mom was there, if anything happened.  She felt a defiance bubbling in her chest, making her throw the ball harder and harder despite her limited ability.   

After some time passing the ball back and forth, Hikaru paused with the ball in his hands. “How come the ball shines in your hands?” 

Sakura flinched again at the sound of his voice, loud and clear in the square.  Kyoto and Mebuki both stopped talking.  Sakura was confused, and about to ask him what he meant, but her presence went ignored; Kyoko’s face had clouded over and she quickly grabbed Hikaru by the arm and dragged him away.  Soon enough, it was just Mebuki and Sakura left in the yard, but they didn’t linger long either.  

“Mama, why was she upset?” 

Mebuki was chopping cabbage and onions for a soup she was going to make for dinner later, but at her daughter’s question she put the knife down by the cutting board and crouched on the floor. 

“Hikaru can see chakra.  Do you know what chakra is, Sakura?” Sakura shook her head. “It’s a force in our bodies.  Everyone has it.  You can use it as energy to do things, like throw sharp objects or heal people, but you need to train as a ninja to do it.  Your father, Sakura, can do it.  He’s a ninja, and in the ninja academy they teach you how to use chakra. 

“All people have chakra.  If you’re a ninja, you can feel it in your body, and you can move it around by thinking about it, but most people can’t actually see it.  Hikaru can, but it’s a secret, so you have to keep quiet about it, okay honey?  That’s why Kyoko was upset, because you aren’t supposed to know that about him, so it’s really important that you never tell anyone else.” 

Sakura felt questions bubbling in her chest.  Chakra?  Ninjas could use chakra?  It could heal people?  Secrets?  Was there chakra on the ball that Hikaru could see?  She wanted to meet Hikaru again and ask him about what he saw, whether she was using chakra too, like her father.  She wanted to ask her father what chakra felt like, what it took to use chakra.  Could it stop the ghosts from coming near her?  Her father couldn’t use chakra, and it seemed like the shadows were quieter in his presence… 

So many questions lingered, but there never was another opportunity to ask Hikaru anything.  He didn’t play in the backyard ever again, and in a few weeks, there was a rumor that the family had left abruptly. 

Her father came back from border patrol a few days after Mebuki and Sakura found out.  His face seemed more tired than Sakura remembered, with fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.  But being held by him felt the same, warm and enveloping, with a hint of a spicy pine smell and the scent of wet earth.  She wanted to ask, wanted to ask him so much!  She tried to, but he stopped her and told her he’d answer her questions later, after he got a chance to rest, smiling wryly at her ill-hidden impatience. 

That night, after she was put to sleep, there was the usual whispering in corners.  Lately there had been a figure visiting her with giant gashes across its body, as if torn by huge claws.  The damage made it almost impossible for the ghost to speak; instead it groaned and gurgled loudly as it lurched about.  While frightened of its strength and unpredictability, Sakura felt a tinge of irritation with it.  How was she supposed to appease it, if she couldn’t understand it?  This night it was rustling loudly, rattling the shoji to the hallway.  After half an hour of tossing and turning, Sakura felt her irritation rising to unprecedented levels.

“Be quiet!” she scolded.  Despite the corpse’s eyes being torn out, it turned its head as if to look at her.  There was a tense moment, Sakura feeling a cold wave make its shivering way down her spine as she stared it down.  But there was a sound down the hallway—a scraping of glass?—and the ghost turned its head away and suddenly vanished through the open crack between the shoji.

Curious and a little worried, Sakura crept out of bed and opened her door a crack.  But she could only hear her father and mother talking as they cleaned up the dinner dishes.  After a few minutes they settled on the couch in the living room.  She could picture it in her head, though they weren’t visible from between the crack.  Her mother's head on her father’s chest, and her father’s hand softly stroking her mother’s pale hair.  She strained to hear, turning her ears toward the direction of their soft conversation. 

“…you think they…”

"…back to the border tomorrow…” 

Sakura couldn’t make out their voices well enough, so after a moment of hesitation she opened the shoji wide enough for her to slip out into the cool wooden hallway. A floorboard creaked slightly, but she quickly eased her foot off it before it could announce her activities.  Though, of course, her parents were used to the rustling and creaking of the house around her.  For once Sakura was almost glad she was haunted. 

“…Do you think that Hikaru is still alive?”  Sakura froze.  The possibility had never crossed her mind.  She had just believed what her mother had said, that Kyoko had gotten a promotion and moved to a more expensive neighborhood.  

Her father sighed. “He’s probably still alive.  Why wouldn’t he be?  He’s a weapon for Konoha.  If they can figure out how his ability works, they could probably even start a new clan of chakra sensors.” A darkness unlay his words.  Sakura thought about one of her recent visitors, a small shadow that trembled and cried, trying to cover its face with hands that had been clearly skinned, with fine cuts to its bones and tendons. 

“Kizashi…” Mebuki's voice quavered.  Sakura heard the couch creak as they shifted position. 

“I know.” Kizashi sounded pained, suddenly quieter than his previous sarcastic confidence. "We must never let anyone know about Sakura.  Otherwise… We’ll disappear too.  And Sakura will never have even a chance of being a normal child.  I don't know if we can help her, but—that definitely won’t. ” 

Sakura felt her heart thudding in her chest.  She thought maybe they could hear it from the living room, it felt so loud.  But there wasn’t any sign; her parents continued talking quietly.  She couldn’t concentrate on their words.  

Dazed, she returned to her room, closed the shoji doors, and curled up with the blankets over her head.  But the comforting position didn’t help ease the pressure on her lungs or the whirling thoughts.  When she finally fell asleep she dreamed of drowning. 

 


	4. Before this damage is done

 

 

_So can you understand?_

_Why I want a daughter while I'm still young_

_I wanna hold her hand_

_And show her some beauty_

_Before this damage is done_

* * *

 

The next day as Kizashi was helping Mebuki with breakfast, a runner came to the door with a mission scroll for him.  Kizashi accepted it with a sigh, remembering his commander’s warning about the needs of the border.  He scanned it briefly before crumbling it into dust in his hands.  Mebuki looked angry at him, he thought sadly. He understood how she felt, knew that what she was more mad at was not that the Hokage needed him, but rather that she knew Kizashi was happy at being needed. For her, he briefly tamped down his wish to go fight, thinking of his own lingering exhaustion and the family he was leaving behind.  Brushing the dust off his hands, he reached out to his prickly wife and drew her close to him. 

 “I’ll be back soon.  They owe me some vacation days, so I’ll stay for a week after I come back."

Mebuki shook her head, her face pressed into his chest.  “I miss you already.”  Kizashi lifted her chin with one hand and kissed her, their mouths lingering. And then she loosened her arms and stepped away, a finality to her movements.  Kizashi knew a dismissal when he saw one, so as she started laying out the table for breakfast, he went to say goodbye to Sakura. 

The room was still dark, since her window faced out onto a shaft.  She slept peacefully, her brows wrinkled slightly.  Kizashi felt his heart constrict as he looked down at her.  He smoothed her pink hair, a paler version of his own.  Her face was small, her chin pointed and delicate, her dusky eyelashes dark in the shadowy room. With her eyes closed, he thought she looked more like a young Mebuki.  But when he could see her green eyes she reminded him (sometimes uncomfortably) of himself.  

He straightened the twisted blankets and pulled them up over her shoulders, before retreating to his room to add a few fresh changes of clothes into his pack. Later, on the tedious march to the border of Suna, he recalled Sakura’s questions from the night before with a tinge of regret.  But he resolved to answer them when he got back, and then finally cleared the thoughts of home from his mind.  

 

* * *

 

Three weeks later, Mebuki enrolled Sakura in school.  Sakura’s first day was preceded by an extremely anxious night, where she lay awake for hours while the ghouls that haunted her room shrieked and clattered.  Finally she had resorted to huddling under a blanket with a flashlight and one of the old sweaters she found at the bottom of his closet.  It smelled like him, that earthy pine scent.  Her mother had retired much earlier, clearly distracted, barely acknowledging Sakura or the rattlings of furniture that accompanied her presence.  

Sakura felt rejected, despite the false cheer that Mebuki had put on a few days before regarding the news that Sakura was going to school for the first time. And also--underneath it all and far more presssing--was the realization that her fragile existence would now be under the constant threat of discovery.  Mebuki only vaguely alluded to it, but Sakura recognized the guillotine she soon would be standing under.  She tried to calm herself by thinking of those brief times in day care centers.  She could never please the people around her or stop the ghouls from bothering her, but she was able to hold herself together.  She could do it, she could do it…

She fell asleep in an upright position, in the end, and in the morning her right leg was painfully numb. 

But the first day went well enough.  She kept her mouth shut, slouched in the back of the room.  They learned the alphabet and how to count, and the teacher read them a story about a dog that saved a boy who fell in a hole.  She didn’t make any friends. 

A few days later the principal of the school called Sakura out of the office.  They were in the middle of nap time, one of Sakura’s least favorite activities.  Unlike during the other parts of the day, there was no other distracting lesson going on.  She held herself as still as she could, tensed despite the ghosts that hovered nearby.  Today, there was an oddly-familiar male shadow that hovered near her.  She felt so cold whenever they were nearby.  It didn't seem like they could take over her body, but that seemed like a small mercy when they absorbed so much of her attention.

The darkness of the shade and its chilling presence next to her made it difficult for her to see what was happening in the front of the room, until she heard her name being called.

“Sakura-chan?” 

“Ah, yes, Tanaka-sensei?” The teacher was standing near her, her hand reaching out as if to shake her shoulder.   Sakura quickly sat up and moved away from the teacher’s arm. 

“The principal’s secretary has come to take you to the office.  You need to leave class now; take your things with you.” At Sakura’s confused face, the teacher attempted to smile reassuringly. “It is all ok, you’re excused from the day early, and from your homework for tomorrow.” 

Sakura packed her bag amidst the whispers and nosy stares of her classmates.  She kept her face tilted downward, letting her bangs hide her expression.  She didn’t think it was related to her abilities, but she was scared.  She didn’t want attention.  It made it harder for her to conceal the fact that half of the time she was distracted by things that weren’t at all related to what was actually happening.  Not to mention, that as much as she tried, the ghosts around her always revealed their presence in small, barely perceptible ways.  

Despite her tension, there was little indication of what reason she was being called to the principal’s office.  The secretary, a short middle-aged woman, regarded her quietly a moment, before nodding and leading her down the hallway.  Sakura waited on a chair outside the principal’s office while he was talking on the phone.  She kicked her feet in the air and avoided looking at the secretary in the desk in front of her.  After a few moments, the door opened, and the secretary told her she could go in to see Principal Nakayama.

“Hello, Sakura-chan.” 

“Hello, Principal Nakayama,” she answered quietly. 

“You’re probably wondering why you were called here today…”  he paused, staring down at the surface of the desk.  Sakura felt her heart bursting inside of her with anxiety.  “I have some bad news for you...”  Sakura felt her pulse ratchet up to a higher frequency.  He continued, clearly uncomfortable: 

“Your father... died at the border yesterday.  There was a surprise ambush, and his squad was able to neutralize the threat, but at the cost of the life of himself and one of his comrades.” A pause, then he cleared his throat. "We are grateful for his sacrifice.” 

Sakura felt frozen, as she numbly watched him start to stand up from his chair and bow to her from the waist.  The gesture was lost on Sakura.  Before he had finished straightening from the bow, she found herself running outside the room, past the shocked secretary.  There was something threatening to burst out of her, a storm maybe, or a tsunami.  In its grip she found herself powerless to resist her need to run away.  Her heartbeat thudded in her ears but everything else was numbed—the lights, the echoes of student voices in the hallways of the school, the handwritten signs on the walls, the indignant security officer guarding the doors. 

A block away from the school, on a cracked portion of the sidewalk near an alley, Sakura tripped and fell, skinning her knees and hands.  As she lay on the ground she felt the tears finally come, dripping down her face and falling onto the cement.  She felt a moment of self-consciousness, but then she remembered why she was crying, and was soon powerless to stop the sobs from ripping through her. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?”  She looked up, into the shadow in front of her.  “Why did you have to go?  Why did you have to become one of them, too?”  Her crying became more intense, as though her heart was coming out of her eyes and mouth.  “Why? Didn’t you—know I needed you?  Didn’t you know that it’s so hard, without you there?”

When she addressed the ghost she saw the surface of its side darken and boil, solidifying.  She had never seen a ghost transform like that before.  Before her eyes she could see it warping into a more solid creature, its features becoming clearer and even more recognizable, and the surface of the ghost becoming glossy and reflective. 

“Sakura,” it groaned. “Sakura.”  And then suddenly, the ghost embraced her.  She felt a sharp coldness, and then an even sharper burning sensation where it touched her, and then abruptly she passed out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics at top from Arcade Fire's "The Suburbs." 
> 
> Super happy to get all the kudos and comments! Feels really lovely to know people like the story so far--though makes me nervous too... XD


	5. Don't hurt me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath. A meeting with an unexpected person.

_Gather up the lost and their souls (Don't haunt me)_   
_Into your arms (Don't hurt me)_   
_Into your arms (Don't haunt me)_

* * *

She was standing in a gray world.  Distant stars floated in the sky far above her, shining cold light down over the empty plain.  Turning around, she could see nothing for miles—just shadowed grass, only a foot tall, listing back and forth from a stale wind.  What was she doing here?  

When she called out a tentative greeting, her voice was weak.  The echoes of her call were quickly stifled, suffocated by the unwelcoming environment.  She rubbed her eyes, confused, and then suddenly she heard the rushing of water.  Cold dampness seeping through the seams of her shoes, up her ankles.  When she opened her eyes again the starlight had extinguished and there was gray water rising up, churning.  Faster than she could process, it was at the height of her chest, and then her chin.  She tried to float, pushing her toes against the ground and windmilling her limbs in the substantial flow.  Over the thundering of the water, the sudden roar of waves, she for a moment heard the sound of bells.  

But that odd thought was quickly overcome by panic.  Thrashing and floundering to keep her head above water, she breathed rapidly.  Her red dress was sodden and heavy, the current making it tangle with her legs and hinder her movement.  Occasionally she slipped under the surface just a bit, but enough for the dusty water to slip into her mouth.  After a moment she realized that she was yelling for help, gasping and crying.  There was a part of her that was detached from the desperation of the situation, that noted her increasingly fevered actions but also how hopeless they were. 

And then she choked, or tripped—something happened, and all of a sudden she was slipping downward.  There was some light underneath the surface, clear enough for her to see her breath escaping from her in bright, shivering bubbles.  The heaviness of the water driving her inexorably down.

_Wake up!_

Ever since Mebuki had started dating Kizashi, she knew something like this could happen.  Early on, she had decided that the only way to deal with it was to expect it to happen someday. To train herself to think of the possibility as inevitable, to run herself through scenarios so that when it happened, she would know what to do.  

So Mebuki planned the cremation and the vigil and the memorial service years in advance.  She made contingencies for if there was no body, she stored black kimono for herself and Sakura in the back of her closet, she decided who she would invite to the memorial service.  She envisioned the shrine area she would make for Kizashi's picture, even what picture of Kizashi she would use.  

She never talked about any of this with Kizashi.  There were times when he would grow quiet and look at her, or hold her tightly in his arms in the downtime between missions, that gave her the sense he was thinking about his death.  Sometimes she wondered if it would comfort him to know how prepared she was for the worst. But even so, she kept it a secret.  

In spite of her preparation, she couldn’t have anticipated what it felt like.  A distant part of her noted that the agony she felt was nothing like the time her mother disowned her for getting engaged to Kizashi or that period right after Sakura was born.  There was nothing, no one, a void.  She would do something simple like wash her hands, and along the way lose track of time, only coming back into consciousness with her fingers wrinkled and covered in soap scum, the water steaming hot.  

It was barely evening, only hours since the messenger came from the Hokage.  Standing at the window looking at the rain fall, she felt faint, like her body was melting away into the murky, wet light.  Her fingers were pressed against the cold glass, but even her flesh felt immaterial.  On one level it was a little puzzling.  Kizashi hadn’t been around that much even when he was alive.  And yet, and yet…

“Mama?”  a voice penetrated the haze of her thoughts.  It took a moment for Mebuki to realize someone had spoken, and then to realize that the voice had been addressing her specifically.  Perhaps a pause of only a moment to Mebuki, but at the same time she knew it was far longer.  Mebuki blinked slowly, and Sakura’s face resolved in the shadows by her waist.  

“Yes?”

She saw Sakura swallow. “I thought I saw…”

It took a bit longer, but then the realization of what her daughter was trying to say.  Mebuki felt horror slide into her.  She grasped Sakura’s shoulders in her trembling hands.  

“You saw him.  His--” Sakura’s face froze, her lips trembling.  “You saw him?” Her nails dug into Sakura’s arms. “ _Tell me_!” 

“I don’t, I don’t know!  I just, there was something.  But. It wasn’t able to say anything.”  

Mebuki’s fingers loosened their hold.  Was it better to know that Kizashi was a ghost, still lurking around them?  She felt numb and full of pain all at the same time.  She found herself looking all around her, trying to find a glimpse of him.  

“Is he here now?”  But Sakura immediately said no, and Mebuki stilled.  “Where was he?” 

“When I woke up he was gone.”  

“I see.”  The window was in front of her again.  The sky was dark from nightfall, and all she could make out was her reflection in the glass, but still she peered outside.  

* * *

The body was cremated at the border, so there was no ritual cleansing of the body performed.  Mebuki decided to forgo some of the rituals, but they had a ceremony with a priest.  Sakura had never seen a Buddhist priest before.  The man was dressed in rough gray robes, with a smoothly shaven head. 

A handful of Kizashi’s friends from the Academy came and prayed before the urn.  Before they left, they greeted Mebuki and Sakura, sitting numbly at the side of the room.  Sakura’s kimono was itchy and stiff, with a strong smell of mothballs.  The corners of the room were the darkest, with lurking shadows, and yet there was something different about the quality of the darkness.  The regular chiming of gongs and the soft murmur of sutras by the visiting jounin seemed to brighten the air--or perhaps the incense made it more smoky?  In spite of how lethargic she felt, at the same time her heart was beating so rapidly, Sakura wasn’t sure if she was shaking. 

After what seemed like an hour of excruciating patience, she finally couldn’t take it any more.  She stood up, pins and needles running through her numb legs, and muttered an excuse to her mother, who didn’t even look in her direction.  

Outside in the hallway, she took shuddering breaths.  She found herself supporting her weight on the wall, and after a moment decided to go outside the building.  And then she was walking to the end of the raked rock garden, and then, stepping through the gate at the far end.

Minutes later she was in the forest.  Looking back she couldn’t see the temple through the trees, not even the high red and gold roof.  The further away she was, the easier her breathing became.

And the shades of the dead were visible again.

Paradoxically, she found herself relaxing at this realisation.  The sun shone through gaps in the trees, and yet, just as normal, she felt the cold waft of air as a ghost drifted near her.  The dull sound of groans and screams in the distance were somehow comforting.  She felt like her whole world was shifting on its axis.  Why would the absence of the ghosts be so alarming?  She knew, from talking to her parents and from her interactions with others that being aware of the dead was not normal.  But the suppressed, tense silence in the haze of the temple room was scarier to her than the unknown desires and dangers of the ghosts. 

She crouched down in the dirt by a tree, her hand grabbing a handful of wet soil, nails scraping on a buried root.  As she pressed it between her fingers, she heard the bright tinkling of bells. 

She looked up and saw a shade draw close to her.

“Ah, how strange.  You can hear me, and not only that, but you have such fear.  You need not worry about me, child.  Like myself in the past, you carry demons.”  Her dark, fathomless eyes calmly held Sakura’s.  Sakura felt short of breath, gasping.

“You also can see dead people?”

The woman’s lips quirked in an almost-frown.  “No, I was the first human vessel of Kurama, the nine-tailed demon fox.” Sakura felt her heart seize with recognition. “My name is Uzumaki Mito.  And you are… Sakura-chan.”

Sakura replied in a trembling voice. “How do you know my name?”

Mito smiled, the slight movement bringing warmth to her face.  Her arms were crossed, long white sleeves dragging down to the ground from her wrists.  Her hair was a burning, deep red, bound into two buns that were tied by the strings holding the seals. 

Sakura felt frozen, in spite of Mito’s friendliness, a fact that Mito appeared to realize.

“Because of my connection to Kurama, the parts of my soul that were in closest contact to his chakra gained a greater … weight, you might call it.”  

“Are you a demon now, too?”

The question startled Mito, Sakura could tell.  Her eyes narrowed, the seals swinging without any discernable movement of her head.  Then she smiled and relaxed again.  

“Perhaps that is what I am?  What an intriguing question.  But who I am doesn’t matter, in truth.  All it does is enable to read beneath the underneath.  That is how I know who you are.”

Mito stepped closer.  At her approach, Sakura felt the same cold presence as any ghost.   But when Mito reached with her hand to touch Sakura’s cheek, her fingers were solid and almost warm.  The weight of her white kimono brushed against Sakura’s side.

“Because you are the one that matters, Sakura-chan.”

“What-what do you mean?”  Sakura felt frozen, looking into Mito’s dark eyes.

“Your gift is important, in ways that you don’t know yet.  But I can help you understand.

“What’s in it for you?  You’re--” Sakura’s voice faltered. “You’re already dead.”  She winced at her words.  Was it polite to point that out?  But all that happened was that Mito laughed, bright and clear.  

“That is indeed true.  But, I can help you all the same, and gain a satisfaction knowing I have helped right a wrong in this world.  I know how you can teach the others to reach their peace.  You have a gift, Sakura-chan, that can change things.  You only have to gain the strength to do so.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ... might be trying to do something along the lines of Nanowrimo for this. Maybe. We'll see... 
> 
> Quote from Radiohead, "Give Up The Ghost."


End file.
